


Storm

by Gigi



Series: Original Poems [16]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Poetry, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi/pseuds/Gigi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a storm in the western sky.<br/>The Moon is crying.<br/>Come children gather closer.<br/>There a story on the wind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

There is a storm in the western sky.  
The Moon is crying.  
Come children gather closer.  
There a story on the wind.

Can you hear the words?  
Can you feel the pain?  
Happiness melts in the rain.

She spoke before of all her fears.  
She knows we didn't hear.  
We couldn't understand,  
but she still holds our hand.

The sun went to bed hours ago,  
blue skies gather to dark gray clouds.  
Not so happy as snow,  
it's just raining.

There is a storm in the northern sky,  
The moaning of the wind screaming  
in our ears.

Would you give your freedom for her?  
She wore a warrior's armor,  
a sword, shield to fight for you.  
She'll never yield.

She spoke before of all her fears.  
She knows we didn't hear.  
We couldn't understand,  
but she still holds our hand.

There is a storm in the eastern sky,  
The stairs are melting,  
like hot lava coming down.

Screams in the rain,  
flowers newly born from spring  
drown in winters bitter hate.

It's death to be reborn.

Come forward now to settle,  
to rest in her arms.

She spoke before of all her fears.  
She knows we didn't hear.  
We couldn't understand,  
but She still holds our hand.

There is storm in the southern sky,  
Where the mountains meet and the  
moon they greet. The rain  
drips from peeks. Sliding  
down our cheeks.

Memories of nights gone past,  
are recalled by firelight.  
She whispers in dreams,  
gathering the linger thoughts  
in net of past. Fishes to wishes,  
dreams to that be.

She'll casts them out again.  
Greedily children grab.  
In their innocence taking their hearts  
past the gathering storm.

It's not them she cries for,  
not their aging towards adulthood.  
No, her tears ever so bitter sweet  
are for herself, for us who longer  
see.

Four points of the sky make  
the storm in our heart.  
No circle cast can make this last.

Time slips.  
Life's a storm.

It's for us she weeps.  
She is love.


End file.
